Psion Escape
by romanov16
Summary: AU of "Fireworks". When Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad are captured trying to free the Superboy, the Light orders them to be delivered to extraterrestrial allies know as the Psions -infamous for their experimentations on sentient beings. Degraded, abused, lightyears from home, and little chance of being rescued, the boys must summon inner strength to survive with their new friends.
1. Chapter 1

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They used and abused me, battered and bruised me, red wires, green wires! Stuck 'em right through me...As you see, the animals don't really feel pain...they just get use to it!~ Batty Koda

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Evil is powerless if the Good are unafraid ~ Ronald Regan

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Prologue:

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 _Why am I here?_

 _Where am I from?_

 _What is my purpose in being here?_

These are the ancient questions -the first questions. Old as time itself, yet newer each day. Asked by kings and slaves, warriors and poets. They have spawn the greatest of stories. The kind he and his sister had always loved, back home when they were small and innocent. Daring heroics, beautiful maidens, grand escapes...evil defeated.

What wasn't too love?

Normally...it goes somthing like this...

...In the beginning, since the first beings rose up from primordial dusts of their worlds, sentient life has been enthrall, fascinated by the universe. Entranced by their power and light gleaming softly in their skies. It makes no difference how many moons shine around them, or what type of soil or metal cover their planet's surface, or what war was being fought; for select members of every race and species, their eyes turn up from their lives to gaze at the heavens, each longing for their shared inheritance hidden in the star-speckle skies, pondering with deepest longing the same thing.

And sometimes, through time and study, a few of these mysteries are not explained, but nevertheless reveled in their beauty, marvelous in their secrets. This is the way the stars teach their students –gently leading them by their wonder to the answers they seek, and perhaps ones which they hadn't, but nevertheless needed for themselves.

Such people have many titles across the stars, philosophers, professors, monks, and priests. Astronomers, lecturers, researchers, scientists...

But not all seekers of knowledge are benevolent in their gathering, honest in their intent, or selfless in their desire...

Knowledge without wisdom is nothing but power. And power was a call for the strong to dominant the weak.

This, the innumerable victims of the Psions know, all to well.

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(*)

How could they not? It was injected into their veins with harsh needles. Fried into their brains with various wave lengths. Dropped into their terrified eyes with methodical slowness.

He doesn't know, anymore, how long he's been here. Days and nights, months and years lose their meaning in the sterile barrenness of this spacecraft. They call it a research facility. Others called it a prison. Or their people's various forms of hells.

He called it what it was -a tomb. An unmarked grave of tormented lives, stolen from their homes, twisted and broken until they are fragments of themselves. Until the life and vivaciousness are drained from their souls -along with whatever other bodily fluid the monsters want this time. For him and his sister, it always seems to be blood now -so much blood. Nerve samples too. The same goes for their little clan that was taken with them -no, not taken, he reminds himself. Sold. _Betrayed._

 _X'hal..._

It hurts just thinking about it. And in this ray shield cell, what was there to do but think about it? It wasn't fair. He was raised to be a warrior. How could he be rendered so helpless? What would his father say?

Suddenly there is light in the distance. But it brings only terror, were light should bring hope. He is just like the rest of beings in the block, scrambling away from red gleaming doors to press their backs against the walls, cowering like vomisk rats.

At the end of the cell block the round door slides open with a mocking elegance, a delicate hiss as the dreaded hover Carts re-enters, with their cargo strapped aboard, as if they were prepared meat for a Hall of Feasting. And he is not so broken that his empathy fails to wince with utter pain. Beyond that round door are the labs, where the Tormentors work their perversions, though they call it progress. He's only been through them many times, when once that is enough for a lifetime. Many lifetime.

He is a warrior, he is no stranger to violence...but this...this is not violence...it is beyond that.

The victims this time are the fresh-meat -the newcomers from the Earthen world. The on rumored to be ruled by clans of heroes. Four of them -one them is former cellmate, _Wa'al'i,_ who was as red haired as himself, rambling nonsense in failed attempts of bravo. Another with dark skin, silent and stoic...well, or comatose. One who roars and struggles even when is becomes apparent it's hopeless.

And the last one -the small, inky haired one with the mask over his eyes. That one is his current cellmate...and...like _Wa'al'i_...maybe a friend.

The Cart bearing his cellmate stops, the door deactivating so it can slip in, the Tormentors' reptilian fingers undoing the binds and straps that hold the earthen boy in place. He can't help but notice that his friend's wrists and ankles are red and sore-looking, and he winces again. The session was a bad one this time.

With care -don't want to damage the Subject- the Tormentors lift his friend and deposit him in his bunk, that rises from the floor like an alter, like an animal offering to a demon. Throughout all of this, the second boy doesn't move, or stir, he can't even groan.

He wants to go to him, help him somehow, in the way he's powerless to help his sister. But primal fear keeps him against the wall, and experience tells him his blood pressure will not return to normal until the Tormentors -and that damn Cart- are out of here...

When their gone, he can breath. And his friend lets out a muffle curse that turns into a sob. So he grabs the daily ration of water, and scrambles over.

" _Cha, Cha_ , easy my friend," he tells the black haired earthen boy, in the language he is only beginning to understand, due to the experiments with Kori. "Easy. It's over for today. It is over."

But it is a lie, and they both know it. It is not over. Not even close. Not when tomorrow, it starts all over again.

He looks the other boy over, taking in the dark bruises and needle marks and... _X'hal_ , was that burnt skin? And why was he soaked? He doesn't want to know. It's an unspoken rule...do not ask, never know. So he focuses on giving his friend the water.

...earthens are frailer than his people, yet something about them seem just so incredibly strong. Strong in how his friend is cursing the Tormentors, swallowing back dry sobs through sheer will. Strong in how in only a half hour, he will be sitting up, trying to laugh, mocking the Tormentors and their ridiculous manners, playing with their words;hells, he'll even act out his own experimentation.

Strong in how he believes they will not die here. That their story would end in _Beatah nostrosma..._ joyful homecoming.

He use to believe that too...and with his friend...a part of him maybe still does. Or at least dreams of it. Dreams of breaking out of this cell, finding Kori, freeing them both, freeing their cousins, and friends both old and new, and getting them out of here.

Getting _revenge..._

It's not much...but at this point, dreams are the only things that haven't been taken away.

That was what _Rob'in_ said at least, and he thinks his friend's father chose his name well. It means hope. It all they have. And if that is taken...all is left is the horrible portion of himself...that hopes everytime the Cart comes, that it is coming for somebody else, not for him.

Hope...

Perhaps that was why his friend was here.

Perhaps that was his purpose.

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Reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. A always wanted to do a mad scientist story, so here it is! Hopefully you can guess you the pov is.

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	2. Chapter 2

(*)

Sparkly dog9: I'm glad you think so. Hope you continue reading.

Loner Queen 18: hope it's worth the wait.

Doomseas1: Thanks I'm glad you'll like the mad siencetist

Guest: the friendships will really kick off next chapter, meanwhile enjoy this one

Notosgia sucker96: yep, the hard stuff starts next chapter, this one deals with the main villain.

In the night guest: Thank you for saying my writing is beautiful! Such a compilment!

Kalianne: Thanks for the vote of confidence!

Alaster Bonemen: hope you like it.

Alex Skywalker: good to hear.

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(*)

 _The universe goes on eternally, it has no maker, and without progress, no definable meaning_

 _We are the Psion,_

 _We did not make the universe, but we will make from it's material whatever our customers desire, or our curiosity wishes_

 _Whatever meaning the martial-substance has is because we have give it to the universe_

 _If the substance disobeys us, we will remove its meaning_

 _This is our right, and within our power_

 _The Psion obeys in all things the command of the Tribunal Administration_

 _If the Psion does not, we shall remove his meaning_

 _This is our right, and within our Power_

 _The sole Psion is as meaningless as the U-S (universe substance) without the pod_

 _The subjects placed in our research have no meaning, save for what we give them_

 _If the substance disobeys us, we will remove its meaning_

 _This is our right, and within our power_

 _We are the Psion:_

 _This is an excerpt from the Code of the Psion: their most scared text, after the Outlawing of Religion and Superstition in the Era 9903 by the Third Tribunal Council. All of age members of Prison society must recite and pledge themselves to this Code before they receive their Life Destination._

* * *

Chapter I a few months ago.

Existence abroad the _Ilerici_ Research Facility was a precarious balance of Psion culture. Where their love of the unexpected, the unexplored, and the endlessness of conceived progress in the universe lay before them... controlled and tamed, shaped by skilled hands to whatever shape they willed it to be. Or were paid to make it.

The entire station was in a delicate dance, it's twirling form shaped like the hexagon ice-crystal; one of billion that fell on a thousand different worlds that they had studied on and experimented on, in the course of existence. Though currently it was in orbit around a jungle giant Atorio VI.

It's hallways were sleek, oval curved, crafted of silvery green metal and sanitized white, the roof tall, and pleasantly humid, to accommodate the cold bloodiness of the _Ilerici_ permeate inhabitants.

One such inhabitant was making its way down the hall now; the chief inhabitant. Like the rest of his kind, he was tall yet slim, an enlarged cranium balanced on a deceptively skinny neck, tilted up with the triangular headdress of his authority, yellowed and black, like the rest of his robes. His face was elongated by surgical means early in his youth, to better display traits that suggested superiority. Red eyes were half drifted shut as he strolled through the Hydroponic sector of the station, an aide trailing dutifully twenty steps behind him.

It was a point of pride for the Psion Kit'ano Meng-Gal, that in his term as Directer of the _Ilerici_ , there had been a a 400 percent increased in researchers and technicians meaning their data quota on projects regarding Subjects, as well as successfully lobbying for a more rigid turn-around point regarding Subject test recovery, allowing for the more prudent disposal if deadlines failed to be met.

Yes...by all accounts, and countless merit recognition by the High Tribunal, Meng-Gal had ushered in a new Era of Scientific Progress. And the secret to his success, his triumph over his rivals, was simple. All one needed was an Open Mind, endlessly alert for even the smallest possibility of innovation and improvement. And if this meant occasional side stepping the Tribunal, and taking offers they had officially turned down...then the Tribunal didn't have to know.

Especially when the offer lead to business ventures with with the strangest of creatures. Earthens.

It was an...odd part-time membership. A thing that was hardly a thing at all. Meng-Gal did not fully understand this Light, and had never meet its council face to face. But he was not required too. What he did see were beings attempting and willing to disrupt the monotonous meaningless of their world, order to prepare it for another stage of evolution.

Basically, they were imitators of the Psions.

And the vision they had...for such a primal species, still bound by their notions of old ways, the Light indeed shone. It was a pleasure to work with them regarding their Kr project, to encourage the early advancement of cloning on the earthen world. After all, nothing wrong with cultivating future customers.

Meng-Gal breathed in the garden steamy air, lifting his fingers to stroke the purple leaf of a plant used to make a paralysis drug, one that was used often when new Subjects arrived at their facility, yet unbroken to their destiny. Many of the plants were stripped bare in anticipation.

New arrivals were coming in, a gift of the Light in regards to their partnership.

It had been a...curious transmission.

The holo of the earthen technician, Desmond, had caused him to frown as he reported his multiple failures. Not only had he failed to keep his facility secured, but had allow the infiltrators - juveniles by the species standards- had utterly destroyed it. All of it. The cloning labs, the data, and even project Kr itself, releasing it long before the appropriate state. It was tainted now. And given the universe substance it was made of, nearly impossible to destroy.

If such a technician resided in his command, he would be rendered Meaningless.

The Light shared his frustration he was sure, but over the communication, it put aside the emotion; coldly take charge of the situation. Given that the Kr and the infiltrators now new much more than they should, they could not be returned to where they had come. Yet, given the state of the facility, it was impossible to keep them their.

The Light had wanted all four young males disposed of at once, but Meng-Gal had objected. On his view screen, images of the males in battle had astounded him, derailing his notions of the physiology of the earthen. It captivated him with the same thrill as when he was a child in his Generation's creche, and had curiously picked apart the wings of glow-moths from the host, simply to see what would happen. It was delightful.

Such specimens could not be wasted. Not even Kr.

Though surprised by his offer, the Light had consented, and naturally, Meng-Gal spared no expense in arranging a transporter for his treats.

That was why he was here, balancing himself for the task ahead. The orderly arrangement of plants and fauna soothed him, as it the tasteful rock garden and liquid pools. So much had to be arranged. Planned, and of course, as their facility could only support so many subjects in captivity, four had to be terminated in order to make room for the new arrivals.

A soft ding sounded to his back, and his aid cleared her throat.

"Honorable Director Kit'ano, may I address you?"

"You may."

"We have received word from the transporter. He will be docking shortly. He reports that all Subjects have survived transportation from Earth to _Ilerici_."

He breathed it again, pushing down the emotion of giddiness that threatened to surface. That simply would not do. Turning, he took a moment to appreciate the right angle his aid had bent her body into, long arms held against the leggings of her yellow-green body suit. The delicate fingers of the Psion, which allowed them to so so much of their work twitched in nervousness, the ends glowing along with three spots on her cranium. Which showed she was in the process of using the network of her mind to communicate with whom she needed to be.

She would not rise until he permitted her. He decided to prolong it a bit.

"Make contact and summon Scientist Eich-Mn Suri-Harah down to the docking bay. The Subjects are to be assigned to his unit block."

His aid didn't blink, but through his bond to her as her superior, he could sense the faintest flicker of surprise. It was blocked to quickly for the Directer to abash her for it, yet he resisted a sigh. Eich-Mannh and his wife were a brilliant Scientist. Brilliant beyond compare, if a tad...conservative in the past. More so than the Tribunal normally allowed -though again and again, they had turned a blind eye to honor their genius. After all, Eich got results, always. And his research into bio-genetic-enhancement was unrivaled in the galaxy.

He had also encountered a...trying time...and his work had suffered as a result, becoming sloppy, uninterested. Some of Tribunal had begun to grow inpatient, teasing the idea of termination into meaninglessness. But Meng-gal had soothed their annoyance, with the reassurance that Eich would return to his normal standards within the next planetary cycle.

It was a sacrifice...giving the Subjects over to Eich. Meng-Gal half longed to pick up his old tools and dive into them himself. But the Directer believed that this would not only save Eich's career, it would save his Meaning. Remind his oldest friend who he was, and what he still had left to do.

Besides...with what was coming, Eich needed all the protection such an assignment could give him.

"Dismissed," he told the aid.

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(*)

Down in the docking bay, the whole of the stuff was gathered in two neat rows to witness Sempo's return to favor. Glowing cranium marks dulled lowly as network mind strained to see through every-eye available to them, no one wanting to miss anything.

On a dais platform, Meng-Gal and the two Head Scientists sat in spoon-like seats of honor, and the Directer higher than them by a smidge, naturally. Eich was in the middle, and the coworker beside him had a tight grip on his jealously, so the lower ranking stuff remained obvious, but a skilled mind worker such as Kit'ano was not.

His friend, however, remained impassive, gracious fingers folded atop one another.

As the bay doors of the _Ilerici_ slide off, the mean looking ship slipped within and settled down with a touch of arrogance they had come to expect from the pilot...as shown when the ramp lowered itself to the pounding of his footsteps. And complaining.

"Ah frag it, can't you clownheads turn the heat down in this place ever? Feel like the Main Man is in a fragging sana for rich dweebs for frag shakes."

The transporter hired was...a memorable one. The last Czarnian, Lobo, resembles a chalk-white human male with, blood-red eyes and blackened eyelids. He was savage in reputation and appearance. And second to none in his reliability.

As shown by the four pods floating obscenity behind him, nevertheless drawing every eye in the place.

Not that Lobo knew this, as he stormed his way up the makeshift aisle. Stopping just before the dais, he rested a booted foot on its edge and swept his arm behind him.

"Well, here you are -four earthen dweebs ready to be pocked, probed, zap and nurtured. When the Main Man Delivers, he Delivers."

"He does indeed," Meng-Gal noted, holding out the chip that held the bounty hunter's pay. "We are indebted to your service-"

"Yeah yeah, fragging whatever?" Lobo drawled, arms folding over his burly chest, "Next time you hire the Main Man, make sure its to fragging kill somthin'. Carting kidnapped dweebs across the galaxy...people will say the Main Man's gone soft."

"I'm sure that's not the case," Eich offered from his seat, his mouth still behind his fingers, the words spoken dryly. Beside him Head Scientist Shi'ro Amon-Go twitched with uneasy as Lobo leaned in closer.

"Ah, what do you know barf-breath? The Main Man's got a rep to keep -ya clowns didn't even let me tussle with Super-dork or the Justice Dweebs over their kit-lings. Man that would've been a fight...ah, but take what you can fragging get, right."

Lobo took the chip...and swallowed it in one gulp. How he planed to retrieve, Meng-Gal was sure he didn't know. Or desired to know.

"Later dweebs. Just remember, next time ya call, call for a kill."

Shortly after, the crude creature was gone, and the majority of the staff dismissed back to their normal duties. Only the Head Head Scientists, their assistants, and the Directer remained to approached the pods and their containment.

It was clear glass on top, allowing those gathered to peer in. Sure as their Meaning, the new Subject's were their, though their appearance was slightly different as too how they were shown over the transmission. The fact that they were unconsciousness probably had something to do with this, in all likelihood.

And the fact that they had been stripped of their boots, belts, gloves, and in the smallest subject's case, his cape. And all equipment. Also, a bit of frost clung to their hair from the chill of suppressed animation. The full effects of which would have to fully wear of before any project can begin.

But enough observation. It was time for the Subjects to be awaken and processed.

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Reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. So how do you like the mindset and first look at our bad guys? And thier outlook and philosophy? The real action starts next chapter as the boys wake up, are processed, and told they are lab rats. Plus yes, Lobo will have more to do with this story...God help them.


	3. Chapter 3

(*)

Sparkly dog9: I'm glad you think so. Hope you continue reading.

Loner Queen 18: hope it's worth the wait.

Doomseas1: Thanks I'm glad you'll like the mad siencetist

Guest: the friendships will really kick off next chapter, meanwhile enjoy this one

Notosgia sucker96: yep, the hard stuff starts next chapter, this one deals with the main villain.

In the night guest: Thank you for saying my writing is beautiful! Such a compilment!

Kalianne: Thanks for the vote of confidence!

Alaster Bonemen: hope you like it.

Alex Skywalker: good to hear.

* * *

(*)

 _Before a newly arrived Subject can be considered ready for research, it is neassary for the Subject to undergo processing. The main reason for this is to eliminate all potential for disease to spread among_ _the holding bay, and also to immunization them to some of the basic chemicals used by the laboratories. I've found the process to be must simpler when the Subjects are sedated through the stages and following medical exam. It is also imperative that pain reliver be applied when the Linguistics translator and tracker are inserted into them._

 _Also to be taken into consideration for any Scientist is this: this will be the first contact the Subject will have with it's Researcher, so I would urge the formation of an mutually constructive bond. If the Subject comes to see it Researcher as a source of familiarity and comfort, they will typically show less resistance. And of course, it is good for the Scientist to become fond of the Subject as well. After all, where would we be will out their contributions? Though this bond would always be with in the stipulations of the Code. You've always been bright Aika. And there's no one I would have at my side~_

 _~ excerpt of an conversation between Head Scientist Eich-Mn Sugi-Harah to initiate Amayah Aika-Sani._

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Chapter II

Even woozy and half-unconscious, that didn't stop the Bat's Brat from taking as full a stock of the situation as he could -or, well, _trying_ to - filtering the feed back into his memory to try and understand at least a little of _what-the-heck_ was goin' on.

Airy space, though the sound of machines echoed of nearby walls ...potentially large but closed off room. Blinding lights above him...meant to discombobulate him...okay. He could identify two shadowy figures standing near by to his right, tipped of by the soft, almost flowery vocal sounds they were making. Foreign sounds.

No. Not foreign. Bruce had made him study countless speak and language patterns during his time as the Boy Wonder. And before that, Dick Grayson had traveled to no least than four out of the seven continents. He knew words. Linguistics. And these weren't human. They were -

 _Alien._

He swallowed, the sheer unfamiliarly of it sending a cold shiver down his spine. Which wasn't helped any when he tried to move and found that he couldn't. _Okay_ then. This was defiantly not an asterous way to wake up after a nap.

L-last thing he remember...he and his team had just broken into Cadmus. Tried to rescue the Superboy from the creeps that were using him as a lab rat. Which had gone down hill pretty dang fast, even by hero standards. But that was strictly an earth grounded assignment -well not _assigned_ , _per say_ \- but yeah. Where the heck did aliens fit into this picture? What had he _missed?_

 _A lot apparently_ , a snide little voice taunted in his head _. Some superhero are you._

 _Shut up,_ he told it. _Sooo not helping-_

Something cold and sharp then clamped down on the vein in his neck, exhaling with hiss of pressure as his eyes flew open with cry of strangled shock. Half remembered muscle memory tried to propel Robin to his feet, only to find himself restrained to a flat surface by his wrists. And ankles. And neck -that one loose enough so he could turn his head, but not much more. Worse, whatever was holding him down wasn't metal, that his gloves could pick...it was _sticky_ , gaffing to his skin with suction.

Warm and pulsing too...like it was somehow _alive_. His stomach shriveled like it had when the Superboy was the Heimlich maneuver on his gut via a one ton foot. O _-kay_ then. There wasn't anything he could do about that now, so he was gonna pointedly ignore it for his sanity's shake...and also so that the breakfast Alfred had made him didn't come up.

Instead, his thoughts turned to something else, but just as clueless and chilling. Where were his friends?

H-he tried to think...but he couldn't think, couldn't concentrate, cause whatever they had given him working up to full force by this time, tilting the world on it's side in toilet swirl at the water park. Which was kinda how he felt right about now.

He must've made some noise of distress, causing the cylinder heads on skinny necks to turned and peer at him with the grace of a giraffe, and the interest of vultures. And he couldn't even stiffen as the smaller blurred figure approached him with a cutting tool, all his muscles as useless as numb Jell-O.

"Wha...what..." he tried to speak, tried to understand. "What are you doing? What are you?"

He didn't get a answer. Not in words at least. Instead, the smaller -and something in the features and placement of the indigo scales made him think her female- figure went to work with that tool. He couldn't see what she was doing...until there was a tug, and the pants of the uniform was in her gloved claw.

Sucking in air, the mere sight of the image launched a blast of adrenaline through him, pushing the swirling hazy aside as he managed a twitch of protest. Real heroic stuff right there.

"What are you doing!?" he shouted to them -well, maybe he did. His tongue was thick, heavy, stuck in his mouth. It barely echoed outside his mind. Though his next cry was louder when his vest received the same treatment, followed by the removal of his boots and gloves. But the fear only really began to kick in when a claw began to tap against his mask.

 _"D-D-Don't!"_

That got him there attention, and red lizard eyes peered down at him with curiosity, like kids in science class over a particularly panicked frog. Robin stared at them, pearly teeth gashed. "D-didn't your mothers teach you to keep your hands to yourself?"

The words might've been braver if he didn't had river of sweat staring to roll down his face, making his head swim. The place was sweltering, to the point that when he breathed, Robin almost felt like he was under water.

The large figure out stretched a hand, and briefly closed it over Robin's shoulder, and the boy flinched at the unusually feel of scales against skin (no offence to Kaldur or Aquaman). It pulled back soon enough...only to reach up and pull some kind of purple...something... down from the ceiling that he could easily touch. It looked almost like a starfish. A very sinister starfish.

Robin felt his throat go dry as he swallowed _. Oh_...this could not be good.

It wasn't. The male figure placed it square on his chest, followed by two more. Which was gross in and of itself...but then the things started to wiggle and _move._

 _"Urgh!"_

Robin had never considered himself squeamish. How could he be, living in Gotham...never mind the age of the internet. But this...this triggered a primal, primeval repulsion as the things crawled over him with the feeling of being pinched and scrubbed and injected mercilessly. _Everywhere._

When one of the things focused on his middle, the other two went North and South respectively. The one South of his Mason-Dixie line, he refused to think about. But the one at his head wasn't much better. Particularly when -somehow- the starfish moved to cover his mouth, puffing out a cloud of mist Robin had no choice but to inhale. Pretty soon, the swirling world had dimmed into darkness.

* * *

(*)

"That fight came out of no where, honorable sir."

"Indeed it did. I am surprise I admit."

"Has anyone else managed to speak around the sedative?"

"Apparently his red haired friend could not shut up. They are all strong willed."

"Will this be a problem honorable sir?"

"Hardly. Strong wills bring wonderful results. Director Kit'ano will well pleased."

"...Honorable sir?"

"Yes Aika?"

"Are you well? I mean...with everything..."

"That is my concern Aika, not yours. I don't want it to be yours."

"...Honorable sir?"

"Yes?"

"Has it been decided where we shall house the New Subjects?"

"...The choice was left to me...I believe the Tamaraneans will match them well."

"Very good, honorable sir."

* * *

(*)

"Rob...Rob! Come on dude, yougottagetup -"

That voice...he knew that voice. Pleading, worried, more than a little spazing...the voice of a friend.

"K-Kid?" he muttered, his voice sounding like it was full of tar. Robin swallow and tried again. "That...you?"

"Yeah man...its me...for better or worse...most likely for worse to be honest," Wally answered, his tone starting up beat before falling down a pinball ladder of depression. "But how you holding up?"

"...I think that depends," Robin answered grimly, turning his head this way and that get the intel on their new surroundings. First thing to noticed...it was still drowned in humidity. Like seriously, did these guys not invested in air conditioning? _Not important right now bird boy..._

Beside that, a lot of the room reminded him of the one before...blinding lights, strapped down to a table, but without his head spinning with alien Mary Jane, he could see the oval bend of the place, almost like a turtle shell the geometric design's even matching it a little on the ceiling in shades of green and blue, pulsing with energy.

"Uh, Rob? You know where Aqualad and Superboy are, by any chance?"

Funny how such twelve words could the mood sink like the Titanic.

"No, no idea...you?"

"Zip, zap, zero, none," Wally related flecking his bare fingers and toes against the metal of his table. It had to be painful for a speedster to be tied down like this. "Hey Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"You wouldn't have any idea where we are...right?"

"No he would, Im afraid," answered a voice from the blind spot behind them. "But I do. And I shall answer any and all questions."

* * *

(*)

"Who,what,when,where?!" Wally exclaimed franticly, head swirling in his strap...though...not at the speed Robin was use to seeing him move. There was something off about that. But he couldn't focus on that right now, with the speaking sweeping in front of their tables with elegant steps, hands folded behind his back. It was the same dude from before. The one that put Robin under...by means of evil starfish. _Ewww. Okay, so not gonna remember that that. Nope. Never._

With him was the female too, using some kind of remote control to push forward three other tables...two of whom carried their friends (well one friend, and one loose cannon but details details), still groggy themselves, eyes rolling in their sockets.

The third table had four folded pairs of ponchos on them, stark white...and why became apparent as it suddenly dawned on Robin in a flash of red that all four of them were in their birthday suits. Reminding himself that it was only his friends and with the heat in this place, least clothes might be a bonus didn't help much.

But there were bigger things to thing of now.

"Who are you?" Wally demanded, tying not to squirm like a child under the alien's gaze. " _What_ are you? Where are _we?"_

Robin had a more practical question in store.

"How do you speak our language?" he asked, eyes narrowed behind his mask as if he could ferret out the answer just by glaring.

Unfortunately, he never been as good as Bruce at the Batglare...being strapped to a table didn't help much in that department. The Boss Alien didn't seem offended and just nodded serenely.

"I am Eich-Mn Sugi-Harah," he introduced him, swinging that majestic head in brisk acknowledgment. "I am a Psion, one of a high breed of researchers and innovators and Head Scientist of _Ilerici_." Here he waved a hand around the general settings around them. "As for how I speak your languge...I am not. While you were sedated my assistant implanted Bio-tech into your cerebrum that translated our words back to each other-"

Okay...moral hazards aside, that was kinda neat -

"It is still in its experimental state so I'm rather curious to see how it will react to live hosts -"

Robin felt his stomach knot up, and Wally chocked. _Nevermind._

"-Such advancement is our goal upon the _Ilerici,_ which is why you have all been given to my charge, to further our advancement in the field of bio-genetic-enhancement. By being experimental Subjects."

 _...Way Nevermind._

* * *

 _Sorry it took so long to get out, I hope you enjoyed._


	4. Chapter 4

(*)

Black Target: Nice to hear from you again -hope you enjoy the Story!

Kalianne: Yes, Robin has always been a fighter, but so is Wally and I hope you like what the kid can dish out.

Gust: Yes, I'm using this story to practice my villian, so be ready I'm gonna dive deep into many of them.

Alester boneman: Hope to hear from you soon.

* * *

(*)

 _In my experience, I've never yet meet a Subject that didn't rail against it fate at first. It takes time, and correction, to accept the role he has been given. Eventually all do, it's merely a matter of time. Our job as Heads of Conditioning is to aid them to that realization, that everything they are now belongs to us. As well as everything they will become~_

 _~ excerpt of a lecture from Amon-Go._

* * *

Chapter III

When Wally West, more heroically know among his fans as Kid Flash, took up his mantle, one of the first thing he learned under his Uncle might surprise some people. Cause it had nothing to do with speed and everything to do with memory.

Which really, shouldn't be a surprise at all. It took time for a speedster's brain to adjust to constant changing between fast and slow. And it could be way to easy to miss some crime scene clue or bleeding civilian. So Flash had drilled the importance of recap into his brain with hours and _hours_ of memory games before he let Wally out on the field. _Blah._

Okay, lets recap, shall we?

They -the team that is, him, Rob, Aqualad and Superclone- had been in the bowels of Mad Scientist Lair, ripe straight from a Sci-fi pulp fiction. They had just convinced the Superboy to work with them. Run with them. Get a life. Err...in a positive way of course.

And then, then...

Nothing. Wally remembered nerve gas sneaking threw the vents, at faster a pace then even he could out run. The others were coughing, tumbling down, laying on the ground to the sound of approaching feet...

And getting picked up and carried away after.

'Cause he wasn't fast enough -he been running, running, throwing himself agaisnt doors, trying to phase himself threw 'em like Uncle Barry could. Desperate for an exist. Escape. He was the only one fast enough who possibly could. The only hope they had...

Strapped now to a table, with alien silly string for cuffs, Wally felt his throat tighten.

...He'd blown it.

 _Failed._

Failed his team. His friends.

Now look at them. They were god knows where, with god knows _whats -_ Psions they called themselves- who apparently wanted to play Operation, Hero's version on their sorry selves.

An alien version too, case at the bottem of the table, pooled near their feet, a gooey mess suddenly came _alive_ and began _crawlingupthierlegs-_

 _"Urgh!"_

Wally wasn't by any means faint-hearted, you couldn't be in this business -but who the _heck_ wouldn't squirm, as foreign substance began began attaching itself to you -pore by pore- hooking on with small needle like things? Robin and Kaldur were crying out too -the Superboy was roaring. And despite the fact that it might not go so well for them, Wally had the tiny hope that Kr might be thier ticket out of here...but no such luck.

When the substance covered them up to their necks in shinny yellowish-green body suits, with glowing circles on the elbows and knees -organic body suits 'parently. So if he hadn't felt like he'd gotten a full _body wax like a_ prima donna, the scientist in him would've been marveling at idea.

Despite being more than a little squirk when he felt the thing _breathing_ against his skin as it joined with him.

"The Suit Converter is our gift to you -" Head Honcho informed them. "They were created at be prison wear for the Delorians of Garzor III. But are still in their experimental stage-"

"Super," Robin muttered darkly, and Wally clenched his fist at how the younger boy's voice shook with pain -trying to hide it, but not quite managing to do so. Wally himself was already getting over it...bonus of his healing factor. But Robin had to be feeling the full extent.

"-But they will never the less serve you well- they will regulate you body temperature, clean you, dispose of waste-"

"Alright -ew!" Wally recoiled. "We aren't babies man!"

Head Honcho lipid eyes turned to him, mildly. "-and keep you perfectly under our control. Observe."

With a touch of a panel that rose out of liquid metal from the white floor, the goo straps holding them to the tables released. But they didn't get up. Couldn't. No matter how hard each teenager tried -strained- to will their bodies to move. They just wouldn't obey-

"Rise for processing now, and you'll receive your poncho."

And just like that, they stood up, like possessed puppets, no matter how much they yanked and grunted. Then remained still, as the Lizard Freaks came closer, one of them unrolling a pouch full of Frankinstein looking syringes.

(*)

* * *

"What is the goal you wish to accomplished?" Kaldur manage to ask when the processing was done...and honestly, Wally was jest impressed that the oldest boy still had the will, never mind the energy to talk, after half an hour of being weighted measured, pumped with fluids, and also having fluids taken out of them.

Robin took it the worst, the creeps taking far too much blood from someone his size. So the Bat's Brat was supported on a hover table between his two friends, chin hitting his chest. Superboy growled, watching him. Which gave Wally some faint flicker of what might've been hope -if the clone had half the heart of his template, they stood a better chance at getting out of here.

"-If you know who we are surely you can not think that our families or teachers will not come for us-"

"And not to put too fine a point on it, but Rob has a really protective, scare-your-pants-off mentor that doesn't like it when things happening to his kid," Wally added crushingly. "They'll find us, sooner or later, so I'd treat him a little better if I were you."

Head Honcho arched an reptilian eyebrow as they marched down humid hall into a tube-lift. "How we treat our Subjects are not up to you. And for the glories of the Universe, we shall risk and compensate any wrath of your kin."

"...They are not the kind to be compensated," Kaldur said with stern bluntness, gray eyes narrowing. "They are the kind to come -to rescue or avenge."

"They may try," Head Honcho answered, unconcerned, when the lift dinged.

(*)

* * *

The circular door swung open, and revealed a endless hallway of rectangular red-guarded cells, glowing and tingling. More freaky was that, beyond them, Wally could make out the silhouette of hunched figures -as they scrambled away from the doors.

His heart dropped. Oh that couldn't be good signs.

Four energy door flickered off. And Head Honcho flicked a scaly hand.

"Enter one."

Hot indignant fury boiled in him -bad enough they were kidnapped. Bad enough these losers though they had the right to use them as _pin cushions_. Now they expected them to _waltz into their own cells!?_

Apparently yeah, cause agaisnt their will, their legs began to do just glowing potions of their suits all the brighter as it overrode their wills, no matter how hard they tried to fight -even Superboy couldn't withstand it and _that_ was next level terrifying.

All most as terrifying as the way Wally heart leapt to his throat, watching his friends depart, desperation clawed at him.

"Don't you hurt them!" he snarled as he meandered closer to one cell. "Don't even _think_ about hurting them!"

The only answer he got was the tilt of a head.

"To cause pain for the shake of pain is not our goal Subject E-0904," lilt Head Honcho. "But in the pursuit of exploration, it is a maqin-shell that must be cracked."

"Then why don't you explore and crack yourself?!" Superboy suprised them by speaking his first words besides growling. "Huh?!"

Head Honcho had nothing more to say. And the went into their cells, with the energy doors activating behind them. The only good thing to be said 'bout that was that the glowing suit-puppet thing stopped, and Wally had control over his own limbs again.

So when he heard hard breathing coming from the corner of the cell, he was free to turn, and come face to face with an alien kid younger than Rob, even. And just as small, tan and thin with a shock of choppy red hair and purple veins. Growling at him like a junk-yard dog, crouched and ready to fight.

"Whoa!" Wally cried out, backing up with his hands raised to show he come in peace. "Easy there dude! Easy -trust me, I'm not here cause I wanna be!"

Even as he said it, it was clear Alien-Boy wasn't here by choice either -he was wearing the same yellow-green prison suit from hell, the poncho he'd been give rolled up like a pillow in he corner, and despite his offense stance and growls...the kid was terrified.

" _Eínete akriá apógor ménahn!"_

You could see it in his eyes.

Wally softened, and came closer -little guy was just a kid, clearly the kinda person a hero was supposed to save and make safe...though how any of them were gonna do that...well, he'll get to that later. First things first.

He kneel down and tapped himself on the chest.

"Kid Flash, little dude. Justice League," he introduced himself, and he knew the kid got it by the way he blinked and -gradually- the glow of his eye dimmed to show normal -well more normal- green eyes like his own.

Very slowly, he tapped himself on the chest as well.

" _Ryand'r. Vasilon lor Tamaran_ ," he said carefully, weary, like he was afraid Wally of all people might bite. It made the speedster jaw tick.

"Okay...I'll call ya Ryan for short," he nodded brightly, like the pair of them were trapped god-knows-where by god-knows-whats. He stuck out a hand.

"Nice ta meet ya, Ryan," he said, waiting for the kid to take it.

Which he did...but not to shake. Instead, he gripped it with both hands, lifted it up, turned it over and peered at it from all angle...looking very, very confused.

But no longer scared, which Wally counted as a win. Cause judging from the kid's strength, he was a fighter -with the potential to be an ally as well as a friend.

And god knows they were gonna need some friends.

(*)

* * *

High in his chambers, enthroned in a circular hover chair before a flickering screen, watching the new Subject transported to their cells, Meng-Gal sipped a glass a nectar and nodded, well satisfied with the control and command held over the earthens. The Suit Converters were surely some of thier best creations, born from the philosophy of subversion over brute force. It's command was subtle, controlled by the World Brain housed in the center of the _Ilerici,_ just as it controlled all their bio-tech.

There was so much work to be down...orders for weapons keep coming and coming, and the earthen Light council was eager to hear the results achieved with the Subjects provided...even requesting video recording be transmitted to them.

Likely to taunt their enemies -Meng-Gal didn't pretend to understand. He merely wanted to get to work, and have the secrets of universe unroll at his feet.

So they would start tomorrow -he had the earthens' whole day schedule.

* * *

 _Sorry it took so long to get out, I hope you enjoyed._


	5. Chapter 5

GabiShea17: Yes, I love New Jedi Order! Its a major inspiration!

Alaster Boneman: Hope you continue to like!

Aprotny: I'm sure you are! Hope it was worth the wait!

Guest: Eyes Open, here it is!

KaliAnn: And now they have new friends!

* * *

(*)

 _I propose we let it play out at first, see if the Subjects are comparable with each other. Let them form bonds, companionship -it will help in the tests, since they will often be paired together...henceforth, it stands to reason that they shall be easier too control if they care for each other- Eich-Mn to Amon-Go._

* * *

Chapter V

BANG.

BANG.

 _BANG._

 _"Gah!"_

"Supes, come on, give it a rest," Robin groaned, slacked and slumped in the corner, as the clone once more slammed his fist the walls of their new (and very temporary) address. Hours had passed after their processing, and immediately after re-gaining control of their own bodies, Project Kr had spent every moment pounding the walls, the floor, the ceiling, like a demented bouncy ball.

It had gotten old after the first five minutes -Robin's head was _killing_ him with the stress of it; but he had absolutely zero chance of making the -older?- boy let up through force. Or, apparently, of calming him down.

BANG.

"Come on dude," he tried again, head falling back, trying for a softer tone -one that could make Batman listen in his worse moods. "I'm exhausted just watchin' you-"

Superboy didn't seem to hear him, but honestly, Robin barely heard himself -cause to the heroes' repulsion, the white spots on the Kryptonian's prison suit began to glow again, making conversation (versation?) putter out like a bad joke as both of them tense, fearing the separating limbs from their owners will. But instead, the voice of Head Lizard -Eichmn...Eich-Mn?- calmly echoed from an organic speaker, with the following message.

 _"Subject E-0902, you are disturbing the recuperation cycle of Subject Block 626. You will desisted all disruption and settle in, or face the consequences of a Kryptonite substance being ejected into your blood steam via your suit."_

With that the voice turned off, but Robin's heart jumped to his throat as Superboy's nose only blew hot air over a snarling mouth, and with a furious roar, he only resumed his efforts, pounding with vigor and fury.

"Stop!" Robin shouted, gritting his own teeth as he pressed his back to the wall and _made_ it support his attempt to stand. But his legs wobbled and refused to obey with the lose of so much blood, and he toppled back to his knees.

"Superboy _stop!_ " he tried again, stubbornly crawling forward, determined not to be rendered helpless. To do _something._ "They're seriously gonna hurt you-"

And they were. They did -with the soft sound of release, Project Kr's relentlessly pounding grind to a halt, a sick green crawling up his veins as the Lizards' threat was carried out. Superboy gasped, gurgled, and fell forward, hands slapping flat agaisnt the glowing door of their cell as he finished his fall from grace.

"Okay, okay he gets it!" Robin bellowed out when he reached his newest teammate -just knowing the sick creeps running this show were watching, listening. "He gets it! He'll stop! I swear! _Stop!"_

And it did...eventually. The poisonous green drained away, and Superboy slowly roused to consciousness. Robin was soon supporting him into a kneeling position as he clutched at his head.

The voice sounded out from their suits again, with more instructions.

 _"Your cellmates are now returning from testing. Stand by."_

For a moment, Robin's mind could only whirl dizzily _-cellmates?_ Were the geckos _kidding_ them? This squishy, foamy, membrane-like cubical they had 'em in were barely large enough for _two_ people, never mind three-

Or four of them, as it turned out -and the Boy Wonder's pulse skipped a beat to see, on one hover cart, the largest Aliens slash White Space Horror slash nightmare knock off unceremoniously placed by unfamiliar Lizards onto a table that rose from the floor, cause _holy_ -

The other guy wasn't nearly as bad...actually, Robin corrected, face softening, it wasn't a guy at all. It was a little girl -nine or ten years old, with the same waist length tangle of red hair that Robin had noticed in some of the cells he passed -indicating that they were relations. Or the same species, he reconsidered, taking in the subtle differences of golden skin and purple veins. The kid wasn't carried in on a hover cart. She walked as they did, under her suits own power, sobbing heart-lawbreaking 'cause she was clearly trying not to, but weeping all the more cause she couldn't stop.

Without so much as a word or a glaze to the misery they left in the cell, the visitors departed -and the moment the glowing portions of her suit turned off, the kid fell to the floor, and scrambled to the nearest corner, hi-cupping with terror in round violet eyes.

"Hey, hey," Robin tried to sooth, holding out a hand. "You're okay -we're not gonna hurt you-"

 _"Éleon! Éleon!"_ the girl cried, pleaded, holding out her own hands. " _Arakaló kýriegor_ _!"_

Robin shook his head and scooted closer. "No, we're not gonna hurt-"

That was as far as he got -cause the Horror from the Space Lagoon suddenly came to life without warning, with its' voice shrieking loud and shrill and _girlish_ -and inside his _head_.

(*)

* * *

 _No!_

Robin gasped, and Superboy bellowed, hands pressing harder agaisnt his ears in protest as both boys had their eyes blinded white with brief pain.

 _No! Don't hurt her, please don't hurt her!_

Okay... _major_ confusion right now. When the white light sputtered and died, and Robin and the Superboy could see again...there were two girls in the cell with them now -and the space horror was gone. Replacing it was a teenager about Supes' age, with battered green skin that hastily turned golden, shoulder length, sweat slicked red hair, and frightened-determined red-brown eyes.

And arms wrapped firmly around the younger girl, holding her protectively close as she looked from Robin to Supes to Robin again.

 _Don't hurt her! Please, she's, she's, she's just a child._ The voice kept pleading...the older girl's voice, Robin would bet his three digit allowance and a plateful of Alfred's cookies on it. _If you need to hurt someone hurt me, just leave her alone-_

 _"Get out of my head!"_ Supes roared, glaring murder at the girls, immediately shutting the voice up and making the little one cry harder. Both pressed further into the corner. Scowling, Robin fixed the clone with his best Bat Glare.

"Well aren't you a gentleman," he snarked, really ticked off. Weren't things bad enough? Turning back to girls, he breathed and offered a smile.

"I'm Robin," he started off, light and easy. "Can...can you speak uh...out loud?"

Slowly, the oldest girl gathered herself and nodded. "Yes...I...I can speak as you do."

"Okay then," Robin continued pleasantly, swinging himself around to sit cross-legged, hands on his knees. "What's ya name?"

The older girl liked her lips. "I'm M'gann...M'gann M'orzz."

His eyebrow winged up under his mask. "Martian, huh?"

Her startlement was evident. "But...you're earthen. How could you know that?"

"I've meet one or two," the Bat's Brat covered smoothly. "Is she a Martian too?"

He pointed to the little girl, but M'gann shook her head.

"No, she's Tamaranean..." With the tenderness of a mother, M'gann brushed a hand over the little girl's hair, working out the snarls, and the kid nuzzled closer in return. "Her name is Ne'ke. I'm looking after her."

Robin nodded, like all that made perfect sense to him. "So...how'd you end up here?"

M'gann tiredly shook her head, as though in a fog. "I'm sorry, but I...I can't...I need to rest, please..."

"Course," Robin quickly agreed, scooting back to give what little space he could. He grimace in sympathy. "I can only imagined what you feel like..."

M'gann just look at him with ancient eyes. "Soon you won't have too."

With that pleasant thought dangling in the air, the Martian girl leaned agaisnt the wall and coaxed her charge to lean agaisnt her. But Ne'ke couldn't relax -watching Superboy with unblinking eyes.

"He won't hurt you," Robin assured her -but those violet eyes stared long after her protector gave into sleep. The fact that Supes wouldn't stop scowling probably didn't help.

Eventually though, she drifted as well, leaving Robin for all intents and purposes without company. Still sour from having been forcibly subdued, Superboy had turned himself away to scowl at the opposite corner, dis-inclined to chat or talk stragegty or form any sort of game plan...

"Urgh," Robin growled, running a hand down his face, tugging at his bangs. Ya can't get good help these days...

Then he stiffened and stilled, wondering...wondering what Bruce and Alfred would be thinking, when it became obvious he was gone. His throat tightened, and he breathed in sweltering air harshly.

 _Head in the game Grayson...head in the game..._

(*)

* * *

Robin didn't know how, but by some miracle of the universe, his body allowed him to sleep for a few brief wonderful hours...which maybe wasn't so surprising, given how much they'd been through -breaking into Cadmus, kidnapped (though he'd preferred captured), turned into a poke and prob game...took a lot outa a guy.

 _Would'da thunk, right?_ he thought, with a dryness -if not a vocabulary- to make a British butler proud. Heck, he probably would've slept for days...if the siren blare didn't blast him out of it -loud and merciless. Inside the peanut-size cell, it's four weary prisoners sit up as an announcement began.

 _"Cell doors opening. Report for roll call in Habitation A1-Janah, follow the red line. If you do not, your suit will take you there...where you will face the consequences for resistance-"_

Superboy growled and Robin felt his jaw clench ...They'd see about that.

The next thing threw him for a loop though.

 _"Please remember you poncho."_

The Bat Brat blinked. Well that was random -but the girls were already up and folding their ponchos under their arms, watching the boys with anxious eyes. "Please...do as they say," M'gann all but pleaded, voice shaking as her hand pushed tangled hair out of her freckled face. "Your suit...it's linked to all your pain receptors. They'll hurt you if you don't do what you want...you can't imagined."

Deflating, Robin breathed out and gave a nod, before glaring at Superboy till he gave a sharp "Fine."

Honestly -and as much as it might bite to admit it- it was probably for the best. The Team didn't have the intel they needed to over anything close to meaningful resistance. At the present moment they were blind, deaf, dumb...practically infants. They needed to learn how to crawl before they could walk, and walk before they could run.

And run before they kicked some serious butt.

Those were the thoughts that piled in his mind as their cell emptied into the humid hall, almost over-ripe. Others were doing the same, shuffling forward gingerly as if in pain, eyes darting nervously. Beings of all sorts, that comic con had never seen -skin all kinds of colors, with feathers, scales, tall and slim, mammals and others. Most keep their heads down, as they shuffled the path of the red line (spread across the floor, and bearing a strong resemblance to glowing sea algae back home)...though some craned their necks, obviously searching for familiar faces. Like Robin was -though he was too vertically challenged to see anything of note.

Typical. But he swallowed the annoyance and followed the crowd, pulling a face as the stench of unwashed bodies and all kinds of interplanetary sweat slapped his senses.

 _Here we go..._

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
